


Series of Fleeting Successes

by CherryFlight



Series: SWTOR: The Reflections Legacy [11]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fun with combining class stories, M/M, With a touch of hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23017600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryFlight/pseuds/CherryFlight
Summary: The toll war has taken on Flow shows itself as Oberon arrives with ominous news.
Relationships: Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Male Sith Warrior
Series: SWTOR: The Reflections Legacy [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643305
Kudos: 4





	Series of Fleeting Successes

Everything seemed ominous: the humming of the ascending elevator, the reflections of light off the pale metal like sharp teeth in the dark. Flow couldn’t tell whether the Force was trying to warn him of something, or if he was simply restless after a day of downtime, when it felt like he’d spent forever desperately fighting day after day. Maybe it was simply a bad day for the anxiety that had plagued him for as long as he could remember, if everything seemed an ill omen because he was predisposed to see them.

The feeling only grew worse, like a thick, choking smog, as he entered his apartment. Nothing was out of place in any way. The probe droid at the door beeped its standard greeting, welcoming him home. Distracted, he forgot to thank it. It asked if he was well, and only then did he turn, to give it a nod. It gave a doubtful low chirp, bobbing in midair slightly as if fidgeting, but didn’t press the matter as he carried his bag of bird feed up the stairs and onto the balcony, wondering how the bright glow of Coruscant’s buildings in the sun could seem so sinister.

The orobirds he kept didn’t seem to be disturbed, either - maybe, he thought, it really was just him. Animals had keen senses of intuition, and feelings of alert he felt in the Force often were reflected in them. He allowed himself a small smile and accepted their affectionate nudging as they begged him for the food he carried. If it was just him, he should try to distract himself from this line of thought. His own mood would probably unnerve them.

Why hadn’t it already?

“Welcome home.”

The speaker was immediately behind him, and had an Imperial accent. Panic was faster than anything. He whirled and thrust out his hand to shove the intruder away, the sudden pounding of his heart becoming a metronome to focus by, to gather his strength, the idea of a concussive blast forming to-

His hand had contacted hard armor, and the slim Twi'lek wearing it staggered slightly from the unexpected shove.

Flow breathed out a shaky sigh as his birds squawked and hid behind him, feathers ruffled. He shoved his boyfriend’s shoulder again, deliberately this time. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Oberon, who had been grinning in the first instant he’d whirled, now watched him in wide-eyed concern, and he lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I was practicing…”

“Practicing what, nearly getting yourself killed by someone who would never want to?” His heart was still pounding, and there was no more focus to it. It threatened to unravel his every thought until there was nothing but raw panic left. _What if he’d actually followed through with a Force push? What if he’d gone for his lightsaber instead?_ “I have to sit down…”

His little flock followed him up the stairs to the pergola perched at the edge of the balcony, rooted in four sturdy pots full of soil that gave the area a soothing earthy smell. They settled under the green canopy, the adults setting to grooming the chicks. For his part, Flow all but fell onto a stool at the table in the center of the shade, slumping onto it and burying his head in his arms. Suddenly, he could sense Oberon’s presence again - his breathing eased at that alone, and he realized it had been gone - and it gave him ample warning for the comforting hand he placed on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Flow. I…used to be able to…”

“I know.” 

“Are you all right?”

Flow sighed heavily into his arms. It always felt like a trick question, even coming from the people he loved. “What were you practicing?”

“Shielding myself in the Force. I can manage it with those I have never met - as you can attest - but I want to be able to hide myself from those I have some sort of bond with, too, if I need to. I was trying…I was trying to surprise you in a good way.“

"I don’t think that’s possible anymore. All you did was make me feel like something was very wrong from the moment I got in the elevator.”

“So you could still sense…something. I failed, then.”

Flow lifted his head just enough to peek out at the dark shape Oberon cut against the glow. Oberon lifted his hand away, to run it once through his hair. His heart calmed just a bit more. “Why are you trying? Why do you think you’ll need to? Did you…is your old master still alive?”

“No,” said Oberon, and Flow felt, for all his bitter, genuine hatred when he spoke of his old master, a touch of regret, “but my _new_ one - I need to show you something.”

_No_. Flow’s heart froze, dread chill seeping through his insides. He lifted his head, his breathing picking up again, the measure of calm Oberon had returned to him dissolving. “Scourge said he hadn’t felt him die…I did, and I watched him bring a pillar down on himself to avoid capture.”

“You tried to capture him!?” Oberon’s own panic spiked, and Flow felt tears burn his eyes. “After what he showed he could do?”

“I wasn’t going to kill someone who was subdued!”

“He’s never subdued, Flow.” Oberon took a deep breath, then bent down to gather him up in a hug. “You are a fool, but so much of your foolishness comes from things that are also wise. I love you for that, for the beacon you were to me in the dark. I don’t want it to be your end, so I must warn you. You only felt _that body_ die.”

It felt like his lungs were on fire. “What?”

“Shh, love…” Oberon stroked his hair, subtly rocking with him until the rhythm could be adopted by his breath. “We’ll find a way through this, too. Come, walk with me.”

Leading him by the hand, Oberon helped him rise, and they left the balcony and the concerned trills of the orobirds, down the stairs. Every step felt slow and lurching, but Oberon didn’t appear to be bothered by his daze. Patient and loving, he led him to his mailbox, before reaching down to take a data spike from his boot and inserting it into the mailbox’s access port.

“What’s that for?” Flow asked, trying to keep himself steady through the world swimming around him.

“Just to fool anyone watching into thinking I’m reading this from Dromund Kaas. I’m sure you can imagine why.”

Flow nodded silently, breathing deeply to corral his thoughts.

“Wait…” Oberon looked over his shoulder. “Did you really think I had any sort of Force bond with _Baras_?”

Oddly enough, reality snapped back into clear focus at that. Flow blinked. “I…um. I don’t know. You seem to form them very easily…”

“With people I _love_ , Flow. Baras was never powerful enough to force one on me through my hate.” He turned back to the mailbox and entered his HoloNet frequency. “I cannot say the same for the Emperor.”

“Why do you think he…um, why do you believe he’s bound to you if you’ve never met him?”

“Because of the way others have reacted to me. You can sense for yourself, or ask Jaesa if you want a more precise read, but I am without a doubt a being that follows the light, if on a perpetually troubled path. And yet, anyone that does not know me - even the Dread Masters, powerful as they are - sees only incredibly potent darkness, more powerful than I was ever able to pretend to be. The Emperor’s presence can be felt in mine, _instead_ of mine, at first glance, and only those who already know me for who I am can see the truth. I cannot sense him - if this connection goes both ways, he’s blocked his end from me. I must learn to do the same.”

The mail list came up on a projected screen as Oberon spoke, and the one at the top consumed Flow’s entire focus, titled “The Emperor’s Absence”. Oberon tapped it, and the message filled the screen. One sentence stood out from the rest. _“As his Wrath, you will soon be called upon to rain fury on the Emperor’s attackers.”_

“Oberon-” Flow’s throat had closed up. “He’ll send you against me.”

“We had been afraid of this day from the moment the war began in earnest,” Oberon said, slipping an arm around his torso, just above the hilts of his lightsabers. He leaned close, trembling. “And we know now that if he wishes to _make_ me fight you, he can.”

“I’ll incapacitate you. I’ll hold you until you are yourself again. I won’t let you be another victim to that extent.” It was all Flow could manage, through his tears. Something to hold on to, his desire to protect his love. “I won’t let you feel what I felt, when I looked at the wounds my crew had…”

“Frightened, but determined,” said Oberon. “That makes two of us. Look at the rest. Your work was not for nothing. For now, he is weakened. You disrupted his ritual, and his ability to act. We have a window of safety that we can take advantage of.”

Flow scanned the mail again, blinking away the watery haze and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “They don’t name any names - they can’t even say it was one attacker. They don’t know _who_ flew that Defender.”

“You and Kira were seen fighting in the streets of Kaas City. But they don’t know how many Jedi came with you. They don’t know how many entered the Dark Temple, or who it was who slew the Voice. They will only have that answer when the Emperor awakens. When they contact me again, I will play the eager executioner, and ask how long it will be before he will have enough strength to direct me. Then I can tell you how much time we have.”

Flow nodded, a strength seeping into his shaking limbs in response to Oberon’s dedication. He raised his head to kiss Oberon’s cheek. “You’re right - you’re right. We can get through this.”

“We have survived so far, working to preserve one another,” Oberon said. He closed the mail and logged out. “We will keep surviving. One victory at a time.”

“One at a time…until there is peace.”

“Until there is peace.”

Oberon turned to him and leaned in, pressing their lips together and holding him close, and Flow responded in kind, clinging to his own beacon in the dark. Affection wrapped around their battered, weary souls like a warm blanket.


End file.
